50+ and proud of it.

With a heavy heart I trolled off to town to have a word with the local "fireplaces-r-us" people about what sort of electric fires they did. Having removed the old flue (which probably wasn't up to spec anyway) I had now burnt my bridges as far as gas stoves were concerned. "...so there you have it", I said to the now-eyes-glazed-over woman in the shop, "I can't have a log burner". "Umm, what about a flueless gas burner? They're made from the same cast iron case as a log burner and from the same manufacturer, but they're fitted with a cat and only chuck out clean, hot air. You don't need a flue or a hearth!" "That's a bit cruel", I remarked. There was a sound of a bad joke hitting the floor; and the eyes rolled to the ceiling. "Have a brochure, there's the door." The Esse 500 fire and black granite hearth turn up tomorrow. The cats are now vacuumed. Nothing like fitting a clean one is there?

We came back from Scotland to find a nicely repaired wall and ceiling - thanks Gary. I set about lego'ing up a mock hearth using some of the bricks from the old fireplace and some left-over tiles from the kitchen. The necessary dimensions required (850mm x the same) meant that the hearth would overlap the radiator feed by about 200mm. We had a long discussion about moving (even removing) the radiator. "We won't need a radiator when we've got a log burner", I said. "I'm not going to always light a fire when I'm cold!" came the terse reply. Our neighbours came round for a drink and suddenly the whole thing dawned on me when the very concise statement was made: "What is the point of spending several thousands of pounds when you're not actually going to use the blessed thing? Anymore wine in that bottle?" And that was that. The last straw has finally been loaded onto the camel... The bricks are going down the tip, the TV's being mov...

Some good friends of ours haven't been married for 30 years and decided to rent Gargunnock House near Stirling to celebrate. They very kindly invited us to stay. This was last week - the one where the UK had the worst snowfall for 30 years. Everywhere ground to a halt except, of course, Scotland where life continued normally. We did the usual walking/visiting/drinking things and had a good time. We visited Doune Castle on the advice of others in our party who went the day before. This castle is where they filmed "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"... "Hello, two tickets for the Castle, and a pair of coconuts please." The lady sighed a little, reached under the counter a produced a pair of half-coconut shells. She looked me straight in the eye - "Were your friends here yesterday? They took it very seriously." We declined the offer of the shells and walked around to the sounds of American Tourists clip-clopping in the distance.

Just to let you know that smart Roadsters are *completely* crap in the snow. Wide rears, Auto-clutch & ESP (even when turned off - odd) do not make for a brilliant combination when a delicate touch is required for driving on slush. The low floor pan means you simply toboggan down the road (generally sideways) on top of any light dusting. I once read a story about someone who was critical of certain driving techniques. They remarked "Anyone who going sideways can't possibly be in control!". "So", remarked a learned person listening, " Roger Clark must be out of control for 90% of his professional career then?" In Roger Clark's case, incorrect. In mine, correct. Can't wait 'till tomorrow...